


Autumn Picnic

by TheGirlWithBrightEyes



Series: Fragments of Life [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Phobias, Picnics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 05:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19738885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWithBrightEyes/pseuds/TheGirlWithBrightEyes
Summary: After handing over the thermos of Holy Water to Crowley in 1967, Aziraphale suggests they have a picnic and dine at the Ritz. They have dined at the Ritz now - several times but there's still that picnic... Story handling both Crowley's new fear of fire and a picnic in autumn colours.Set about a month after Walk With Me.





	Autumn Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> After looking through the book and TV series I've concluded that Crowley and Aziraphale can't use their miracles/wishes any way they want. They seem to not be able to create things from nothing and repair things any way they want. One such example being that Aziraphale won't fix his jacket when it's hit by a paintball since 'he would know it's there underneath', suggesting that he can't fix it, only glamour the stain away. He also swaps clothes with the executioner in Bastille rather than create a new set of clothes, and cannot simply miracle up any wine he likes (why else would there be any significance to only a couple of bottles left for special occasions?). Also, Crowley can't fix his Bentley - it's beyond his ability to repair even if he seems to have some abilities Aziraphale doesn't (like freezing time for objects or people and briefly move to other dimensions/planes). The conclusion is that they have to buy or steal things they need and need to keep e.g. a wardrobe of actual physical clothes to change them. Because of this I keep miracles at a minimum where I think they actually could use them.

Summer came to an end shortly after Armageddon had been stopped, and it gave way for a slowly approaching autumn with rains and dropping temperatures. Crowley had started getting his act together, slowly but surely much to Aziraphale's great relief. He'd even started turning up at the bookshop now and then but admitted it still gave him chills seeing it. He'd also developed some kind of lighter phobia of fires, something they discovered one chilly evening when Aziraphale had asked him to feed the stove that kept the bookshop warm in winter. He'd found it difficult to look directly into the flames without breaking out in cold sweat and was thoroughly annoyed by his reactions.

"Demons don't fear fire," he'd complained to Aziraphale, furious with himself and this newfound weakness. "This is just bloody ridiculous!" His hands had been shaking and the angel took them, feeling the tension as he rubbed his thumbs over Crowley's knuckles.

"It's okay, dear," he said, distressed by seeing Crowley squirm and scowl in front of him. "There was much too much fire when things went crashing down. It's natural to have a bad association with it after all you went through..."

"Fuck..."Crowley had been most upset, but eventually - after much coaxing and wheedling, let it go as a bad job, avoiding fires as much as he could instead. Aziraphale couldn't help feeling sorry for him and didn't ask him to go near the fire again even when the demon was visiting at the bookshop.

"I'm sorry, dear," Aziraphale said one evening as he'd fed the stove and found Crowley curled up and holding his head on the sofa, fuming with anger directed at himself for what he considered a great failure. "It's getting colder and this place doesn't have any radiators." He motioned toward the bookshop. "I have to keep the stove burning."

"I know, I bloody fucking know," Crowley whined against his knees. "I hate the cold." Aziraphale stroked his back, smiling slightly. Crowley had always retreated indoors during late autumn and winter and didn't willingly come out. One of the drawbacks with being a snake demon meant that he was heterothermic and not very good at keeping his body temperature up when it got too cold. "I'm such a pathetic excuse for a demon..."

"I don't really think it matters very much anymore," Aziraphale said as he sat down on his knees in front of him, which got a scoff from Crowley but he did unfurl a bit. The angel gently touched his cheek with his fingers, coaxing him. "Didn't really like any of the demons very much during my visit in Hell. But you're different. You're not like them." Crowley looked at him, still frowning. "If that makes you pathetic then I don't think that's a bad thing, Crowley." The demon sighed in defeat, but nodded.

"Was never a very good demon, was I?" he muttered with a scowl. "Much too soft." Aziraphale couldn't help chuckling.

"It's what I love most about you," he said, something Crowley didn't seem to appreciate much to hear. "But I am a terrible angel, too." This did make Crowley smile slightly though.

"Yeah, you sure are," he agreed. "Don't really see it as something bad, either, to be honest... Don't really much like the other bunch of fucking cold hearted excuses for angels." Aziraphale blushed furiously at this, torn between laughing and feeling horrified at what Crowley was saying. He ended up with a nervous sort of laughter that earned him another smile from Crowley.

"They can be rather anal when it comes to rule breaking, yes..."he admitted. "I suppose it's the whole idea with Heaven and Hell, Order and Chaos." The demon considered this, humming slightly.

"Nah, pretty sure both of them are anal about order," he said, finally uncurling. "If Hell was all about Chaos they'd not care one hoot what I was up to, good or bad." Aziraphale couldn't fault him there. They'd even had a trial of sorts when he'd been down there, although there had never been much to speak of as defence.

"Feeling better?" Aziraphale asked, still sitting on his knees by Crowley's feet. He nodded, only glancing briefly over at the stove and back again.

"Yeah. I'm okay," he muttered. As Aziraphale got up and dusted off his knees, Crowley looked up. "Oh yeah. I remembered something the other day. Completely forgot about it."

"Oh?" Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. "Well do share, dear," he encouraged, it seemed Crowley distracted himself from the flames so what better then to continue down this line.

"You said you wanted a picnic back in 1967 when you gave me the Holy water and we never did," Crowley said and Aziraphale blinked.

"Oh. You're right, I did," he agreed, that particular meeting difficult to forget. He'd been mortified when he'd heard what Crowley was up to. Sometimes at night his mind had wandered to that particular time, since he had feared very much that Crowley would leave him behind by committing suicide. The demon had had bouts of severe depression during the years they'd known each other, something he'd usually handled by drinking or sleeping. "I still think it would be nice." Crowley gave him a smile, glancing out the window where darkness had now fallen.

"I guess we'd have to wait until next summer though," he mused. "Bit too cold for a picnic now, isn't it?" Aziraphale shrugged lightly, then shook his head.

"Not necessarily. You can have autumn picnics, too, you know. I actually find them rather romantic. Conceptually, of course," he added quickly at a raised eyebrow. "I've been to picnics before, but never just for two and it's been...well, at least a century or more since. Back when there was still nobles living here in Soho." Crowley considered it thoughtfully, then brought his phone out and Aziraphale watched him curiously. After a few minutes the demon grunted.

"So just pack up the car with lots of blankets, food and hot cocoa then?" he said, much to Aziraphale's delight.

"That does sound lovely!" he said happily, putting his hands together. Crowley's mouth twitched.

"Doable, I'd say," he said, quite amused by how excited Aziraphale got. "Can probably find a nice spot for it outside London, too."

...

Setting up a picnic when you didn't really know how to required a bit of preparation. Aziraphale was quite happy to make a list of what they would bring with them - with some modern adjustments from Crowley of course, while it became Crowley's job to shop most of it and find somewhere to go. None of them felt much like getting anywhere near Oxford after all the bad memories connected to it, so in the end Crowley'd settled for a couple of other areas a bit out of London. They'd pretty much only agreed that it should be somewhere out in the nature where they'd be left alone - and could still park the Bentley.

Aziraphale was quite pleased with how the whole picnic planning seemed to keep Crowley busy and distracted, the demon taking it quite seriously but he expected it could have something to do with lack of stimulation lately. The evening before they planned to head out Aziraphale had taken a cab over to Crowley's flat and they sat in the kitchen with all the things they were going to bring with them on the kitchen island. Crowley had spread out a map where he'd circled a few nice areas, Aziraphale didn't do digital maps after all, preferring them to be of paper or parchment and Crowley didn't feel like arguing.

"It's not like we're in a hurry," he said, pouring himself a glass of a new kind of scotch. He'd pretty much stopped drinking Talisker altogether as it was no longer working for him and was trying to find something else to replace it with. This time it was a Cardhu, another single malt. "We can always drive past some of them before we decide."

"I don't mind," Aziraphale smiled, counting the blankets folded on the island. "Oh these will do nicely," he said happily feeling the thickly woven wool. Crowley chuckled.

"Chose proper ones so we - or specifically I, won't be freezing my arse off out there. Not much of a fan of tartan but at least these are dark and I couldn't find anything else warm enough." He took a gulp of the scotch, rolling it in his mouth thoughtfully then scowled.

"Still no good?" Aziraphale asked carefully and Crowley sighed unhappily.

"Think I'll have to just abandon the single malts," he said gloomily, putting the glass aside and dumping the almost full bottle in the trash. "Just can't seem to drink it anymore." The angel reached out and gently caressed Crowley's hair, ignoring the grimace put out as he messed it up. He knew that the demon didn't really mind, in fact Crowley seemed to enjoy the little touches far more than he normally put on.

"Try blended instead? I hear there are some really good ones," he said in an attempt to cheer Crowley up. He kept looking gloomy though, shrugging as he looked at the offending glass. "Let's pack?" Aziraphale then suggested to get his mind off things.

"'S not like I've got anything better to do," Crowley muttered in backhanded agreement, but it was just a false pretence. He was soon arguing with Aziraphale on how to pack everything without breaking any of the glasses and cups they'd bring and whether or not he should wear the knitted socks the angel had gifted him a few decades earlier.

"Oh for Heav- _goodness_ sake Crowley, they're just socks! Who cares what colour they are! You'll be freezing without them!" Aziraphale finally said, quite exasperated. Crowley pouted at him but didn't offer any further protests. "Want me to make them black instead?"

"No, no, it's _fine_..."Crowley sighed impatiently, trying to remember where he'd put the socks. "I'll wear them." In the end, though, he did find the socks in the bottom of a drawer in his walk in closet but completely forgot to put them on out of sheer habit.

...

The next day Aziraphale didn't open the bookshop, having stayed the night at Crowley's place. He liked watching the demon sleep, lightly caressing his hair. He seemed so much more relaxed in this familiar setting which was a great relief and he also slept quite calmly in Aziraphale's company. He knew Crowley had nightmares quite often nowadays, but he never did when the angel was there.

Aziraphale rose with the sun and was busying himself in the kitchen making cocoa when Crowley got up looking quite tousled in just his underwear and a black silk dressing gown.

"Good morning, love," Aziraphale chirped happily at him and Crowley grunted, stretching with a popping noise crackling up his spine. "Did you sleep well?"

"Must've," the demon yawned, perching on top of one of the bar stools. "Still zonked. Fancy making me a coffee?" he drawled, leaning on his elbows on the kitchen island looking ready to fall asleep again. Aziraphale snorted but did pick out an espresso mug and put it in the very expensive looking machine standing on the kitchen top, using a cheat sheet Crowley had made him for pressing the buttons. For someone who couldn't sort out a remote control for an air condition the coffee maker was far too advanced. He usually got it right with the slip of paper as help though. "Thanksss," Crowley hissed appreciatively as he was handed the mug and sipped it gratefully.

"Never really took to these things," Aziraphale commented as he poured the cocoa into thermoses. "But I kind of regret it now seeing the large variety of coffee humans come up with." Crowley scratched his stubbled chin, looking thoughtful.

"Well it's bitter so I'm not surprised you don't like it, there's always sugar though," he commented, draining the cup. "But it's quite a kick in the morning."

"Anything else you'd want for breakfast before we head out?" Aziraphale said with a warm smile that Crowley returned. He made a vague gesture with his hand.

"There's always the bakery across if you're up for a small walk, but it's optional." To Aziraphale, however, a bakery sounded like an excellent idea so it didn't take long before he'd fetched Crowley's keys - blushing as he noticed the leash and collar still hanging where he'd left them a month ago and spirited over to the bakery. When he got back, he brandished two paper bags - one with croissants for breakfast and one with some newly baked goodies to bring along for the picnic.

Once Crowley had indulged in his croissant (Aziraphale ate three) and gotten dressed - once again with some arguments that he needed a warm sweater on, a battle Crowley lost as Aziraphale more or less forced one on him - they headed out, laden down with blankets, picnic basket and a bag of thermoses. Aziraphale's mood was excellent and Crowley let him chat on happily as they drove out of London. Crowley was also in a good mood most of the trip, but he got off the M25 as quickly as he could, relaxing considerably once they had gotten off the bigger roads and was headed out on the countryside.

"Oh it is lovely this time of year!" Aziraphale exclaimed and Crowley had to give it to him. All the trees around here were changing colours and the fields were golden with the last harvest of the year.

"Yeah, it reminds me of a painting," the demon agreed, eyes not on the road as much as the angel liked, but he at least held a sensible pace - or at least more sensible than usual. "Don't think I've been out like this in autumn to just enjoy the scenery before."

"Not?" Aziraphale said curiously and Crowley shook his head.

"Nah. Too cold. Was usually stuff like war and shit that got me out this time of year and not much sightseeing at those times, usually too busy with keeping up with things. And angels," he said pointedly and Aziraphale had the decency to blush.

"Which was much appreciated," he said, feeling quite bad for all the times Crowley had helped him out of sticky situations. "Oh, Crowley!" They'd just arrived at one of the spots Crowley had picked out for them - something of a slightly sloping meadow with a view over a small lake that glittered in the sun. It was a bit out in the bush with only a rutted trail for road but with a lovely backdrop of trees in their best autumn colours. Crowley drove out in the grass for a bit before stopping and Aziraphale bounded out the door as he did. The demon got out more slowly and leaned against the Bentley's roof, a big grin on his face as he watched Aziraphale's excitement. It was difficult not to feel your heart swell with love at such an obvious display of delight.

"I guess we'll pick this spot then?" he called out after Aziraphale as he'd run off a bit, and the angel twirled on the spot and put his hands together, beaming. Crowley chuckled, knowing the answer before it came.

"Oh Crowley, it's beautiful!" the angel exclaimed. "It's perfect!" He hurried back to the Bentley and helped Crowley get all their things out, spreading out blankets with the vintage car as a wind breaker. Aziraphale chatted happily as they brought out dainty sandwiches, cheeses and the pastries from the bakery along with a box with liqueur filled chocolates. Even as they put everything out and the sun was high Crowley noted that there was a nip in there air, enough to make him freeze slightly. He sat down cross legged and wrapped one of the blankets around him, but it couldn't keep his hands warm.

"Should have brought gloves," he confessed and Aziraphale gave him a small smile.

"We'll have to buy you a pair then," he said fondly. "I guess a fine pair of calf skin gloves would suit you?" Crowley considered it and nodded, warming his hands in his armpits as Aziraphale poured him some hot cocoa. "It's what this is for, dear," he said with a smile, offering it to Crowley. The demon took it and sighed, holding the mug in his hands feeling the warmth return.

"It's nice," he said appreciatively, looking around. "A bit cold but cosy." The angel smiled happily.

"It could be even more cosy," he said softly, giving Crowley a look so loving the demon blushed, but he didn't protest as Aziraphale took a third blanket and wrapped it about them both, sitting so close to Crowley he could put his head on his shoulder. "Part of the romance about autumn picnics, you know," he said with a smile. Crowley's mouth twitched.

"I guess so," he murmured and after fidgeting slightly slipped one arm around Aziraphale's back and his hand came to rest at his waist. Aziraphale practically glowed at this hesitant gesture, only finding it adorable how embarrassed Crowley was. Quite pacified and with both hands accounted for, Crowley allowed the delighted angel to feed him with no protests. Aziraphale chatted happily with him about anything that came to mind - everything from latest gossip to new exhibitions he thought the demon would like, being quite interested in contemporary art especially sculptures. They sat curled up in blankets for a few hours before Crowley had to disentangle and announce defeat due to cold and he did so with regret. He'd liked cuddling with the angel like this and getting fed small bits of goodies had been surprisingly nice.

"I would invite you to join me at the bookshop to warm you up but I'm afraid there's only the fire," Aziraphale said apologetically as Crowley shivered while they were folding the blankets. The demon made a face.

"You know what," he said, hurrying to get the things into the car. "Let's have a detour. I'll give you a new piece of furniture from this century - a radiator." Aziraphale blushed at this but didn't - for once, object. If it would make Crowley get over to the bookshop more often and avoid the fire, it would be a small price to pay.


End file.
